


Someday Soon We All Will Be Together

by Center_of_the_Galaxy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Christmas, Christmas Angst, F/M, Gen, Mourning, Post series finale, Sam Winchester Misses Dean Winchester, post carry on, spoilers for the series finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28042311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Center_of_the_Galaxy/pseuds/Center_of_the_Galaxy
Summary: It’s hard to talk about Dean.The grief still cuts like a knife and every once in a while, he wakes up still thinking that his brother is alive, that he’s in the bunker and that Cas is still shuffling around, trying to work out the latest human craze. Jack is there too, picking up on the trends just a little bit faster, though he’s still their kid, the one that turns the three of them into protective fathers.But they’re all gone.Gone, but not forgotten.
Relationships: Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Someday Soon We All Will Be Together

**Author's Note:**

> Post series finale spoilers here. I cried writing this so if you don’t feel like a sadder story, you might want to skip this one.

* * *

_“Every year around this time, I start to think about you_

_We're really gonna have another Christmas Eve without you_

_I can't believe it's been so long_

_Everyday finds a way to make me think about you_

_Like today when we were picking out the tree without you_

_I can't believe it's been so long.”_

* * *

Eileen holds Sam’s hand as they stare at the small sonogram in her hands.

Pregnant.

His wife rests her head on his shoulder, one hand on her stomach and smiles. It’s peaceful and full of bliss. For his part, Sam can’t keep the joy off his face. For so long, he gave up dreams of fatherhood, of that white-picket fence life, of a wife and kids and normalcy.

But now, as he faces reality in the face, he feels bittersweet. This baby represents all the sacrifices, all the friends they lost along the way, their hopes and dreams when they faced impossible odds.

“A baby,” Sam breathes, astonished.

Eileen presses a kiss to his cheek and then, softly, she lets go of the sonogram, signing to him— _Are you okay?_

It’s a loaded question. He’s thrilled, of course. His wife is pregnant. He loves her and he will love this baby. He can already picture reading fairy tales to him or her, playing catch, helping with homework—all those normal things that he never had as a kid.

“I just . . . wish Dean were here.”

She reads his lips and frowns, her eyes misting. It’s hard to talk about Dean. The grief still cuts like a knife and every once in a while, he wakes up still thinking that his brother is alive, that he’s in the bunker and that Cas is still shuffling around, trying to work out the latest human craze. Jack is there too, picking up on the trends just a little bit faster, though he’s still their kid, the one that turns the three of them into protective fathers.

But they’re all gone.

Gone, but not forgotten.

_I miss him too._

She never presses him on his feelings, instead choosing to simply listen whenever he chooses to open up. Still, he wonders what life would be like if Chuck had never reared his ugly head. The four of them—and so many more—were with him. He misses them.

He misses Dean.

It’s hard to breathe sometimes. The grief weighs down on him, like something that he can never overcome. He’s been through counseling, he’s done the steps and he knows that the sun will continue to rise tomorrow, even if it feels like the world should’ve stopped the moment Dean stopped breathing.

Eileen nods, saying softly, “Dean’s still here.”

His breath hitches. He knows what his wife means, what she’s trying to convey.

He signs, _I know._

And he looks at the baby’s picture again.

* * *

Christmas is always the hardest time of the year.

They live in Vermont now, a nice white-picket fence around their house and a dusting of snow on their lawn. Eileen is seven months along, moving a bit slower these days, but otherwise pregnancy has seemed to have spared her its worst effects.

He’s out on the ladder, decorating with lights that are brand new—something that would astound Dean if he were here—and he’s proud, seeing how picturesque it all looks. Climbing down from the ladder, he takes a step back to look over the lights. They shine, bright like stars. This time next year, he will be a father with a baby on his arm.

“Pretty fucking cool, huh, Sammy?”

He freezes at the familiar voice, the one that he hears ring out in his memory.

Dean moves to stand beside him, his brother’s smile as warm as Sam pictures it in his dreams. His big brother claps him on the back and nods, “Badass house, Sammy.”

“Dean—?” He’s scared to even speak louder than a whisper, that he might break this spell. His heart squeezes painfully, Sam wincing as tears spring to his eyes. He searches for Eileen to confirm what he’s seeing, but she’s inside sleeping.

“I’m here,” Dean confirms quietly, “Just for a bit.”

“But how—?”

Dean chuckles, “Jack and Cas pulled a few strings. Official line is that this is a Christmas miracle or something.”

Sam huffs out a wet laugh, tears rolling down his cheeks. He embraces his brother, the contact solid and warm—not like the last time he touched Dean, cold and clammy. His older brother rubs comforting circles on his back, just like he used to do when Sam was little. He feels like a kid again, happy that his big brother is back to make things feel less scary.

Dean lets him go, stepping back and looking over him, “Damn, Sammy, you’re taller.”

“Dean.” Sam chides, chuckling.

“So, heard you’ve got a kid on the way.”

They take a seat on the front porch and Sam nods, “Yeah. Little boy.”

“Congratulations.”

Sam sighs, “I wish you were here.”

“Ah,” Dean sighs, “I would teach that kid to be a hellraiser, Sam. Trust me, no one wants that.”

“Hey,” Sam interjects softly, “You raised me. I think I turned out okay.”

Dean doesn’t say anything for the longest time, but finally, his voice comes out, “You did.”

Sam wants to say so many things, but a lump in this throat prevents him, his emotions clogging his voice. He tries and fails to talk more than once but he can’t seem to get the words out.

“I miss you,” He finally manages, “So fucking much.”

Dean rests a hand on his shoulder, “I’m always here, Sam. Castiel, Jack, Bobby, Me—we’re all watching over you. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

Sam wipes away a tear, but another replaces it, “But how can I tell my son about you? About everyone?” He doesn’t want to raise his kid to be a hunter. He will teach him how to protect himself, yes, but he doesn’t want that same childhood that he went through. His son will be able to go to school and college and work and play—just like any other.

“Simple,” Dean leans back, his hands resting on his head, “You just tell him the truth.”

“The truth?”

Dean chuckles, “Maybe edit it a bit when the kid is young.”

“Dean.” A flutter of wings that Sam knows so well echoes. Dean rises from his seat and faces Sam as Castiel steps out of the shadows, “It’s time.”

“Cas?” Sam rises, voice cracking.

Castiel beams, eyes misting, “Hello, Sam.”

“I love you, Sam,” Dean reassures him, “And I’m here with you.”

He takes Castiel’s hand and the two of them vanish.

“Sam?” Eileen steps out onto the porch, her brow furrowed. She signs, _Is someone with you?_

“No,” Sam replies, signing, _Not anymore._

* * *

“A long time ago, there were two brothers,” Sam cradles his almost one year old son as he rocks him in front of the shining Christmas tree, “and they hunted things and saved people.”

Dean Winchester Jr. meets his gaze, a spark flashing in those little eyes. “And our story starts one Halloween night, on a college campus in 2005.”

He knows his son won’t understand this story—not yet, not now—but he still needs to tell it. 

* * *

Later, when the baby is asleep, Eileen finds him, signing, _The ones we lost, they’re still with us._

He kisses her lips, grateful for her grounding presence.

“I know.”

She snuggles into his side and together, they look over their Christmas tree. While on the radio, faded Christmas music begins to play.


End file.
